While My Guitar Gently Weeps
by kiwiclovergirl
Summary: Brya is your average New Zealand girl on her round-about world trip, with a traumatic loss in her past. Jackson is your typical actor/musician on tour with his band. What happens when their paths cross? Will Brya be able to overcome her past?
1. Chapter 1

First real person story. Haven't done this in a while. Like to give thanks to MariahjilE for beta-ing my story. Hoping to start second chapter today.

"Hey, Brya. It's Ollie. Uh, just wondering when you're coming back. I mean - it's been over a year now. You know that I love you, but I won't wait forever. But, yeah, just give me a call back on 3-"

BEEP! "Message deleted."

Oh, for God's sake. I'd only been on two dates with the guy. He'd been leaving those messages in my inbox, too. He couldn't take a fucking hint. You'd think he would get the message after the first fortnight. And I'm not horrible. Before I left, I did break up with him, if you can even call it that. Two dates and he had started saying "I love you." I told him that I couldn't do it. Also after the first few emails and phone calls, I called him back and said it wasn't happening, that I wasn't coming back any time soon, let alone to him, and he still called me. Serves me right, though. That's what you get when you date a guy whose middle name is Gary. Yeah. I know.

I ran my hand through my hair and chucked my phone back into the abyss of my handbag. Shit, I'd have a hard time finding it later on.

As I got up off the hard hotel bed, I groaned. I had a pounding headache, and I just wanted to sleep, even if it was on the hard hotel bed. Sometimes it was tempting to settle down somewhere. Get a proper bed. A comfy one. Hotel beds were very rarely comfortable, and I should know. I practically slept my way across the seven goddamned seas. But I couldn't even think of going home right now. It still hurt too much. Shoving that stinging errant thought out of my head, I shuffled over to the bar fridge on the other side of the room. I had spent the whole day in bed, watching shitty day-time television and trying to doze off, but, as tempting as it was to crawl back into bed, they needed me down at the restaurant. It was tourist season. Technically – and legally – I was a tourist, too, but I worked here. All these tourists wanted was to see Bourban Street, see the crypts that Anne Rice wrote about and see "a real, live hoodoo lady." Truthfully I had seen all of the above, but come on! – There's a whole different side of New Orleans if people wanted to see it.

Anyway – they needed me in. Two waitresses had quit in the past week, and because of all the tourists, they needed me – headache or no headache. I grabbed a bottle of water out of the bar fridge and grabbed some aspirin off of the small dining table and gulped it down. Sitting down on the bony dining chair, I let the aspirin do its work. A few minutes later, I was starting to feel a little better, so I went and walked over to the set of drawers.

Yanking a drawer open at random, I rummaged around until I found a decent outfit for work tonight. Eventually, I decided on a pair of distressed, dark-wash jeans, and a tight-fitting blue v-neck. Yes, I played up my sex appeal. It got me more tips, so I wasn't complaining, and I would be able to move onto my next city sooner. Rushing into the bathroom, I brushed on a bit of make-up and pulled my hair back into a pony-tail. I ran out of the bathroom, grabbed my favorite tan bomber jacket and my handbag off the table and headed off to work. Another thing I should mention - I work on Bourban Street. Nice, right?

Later that night – four ass-grabs, and countless men talking to my breasts (which aren't that impressive, by the way) instead of my face, I was only two beers into the night. I was working, you know. They didn't want drunk waitresses as well as patrons. Thankfully, my headache had dissipated. After leaving work, I decided to go and hit my favorite bar, The House of Blues. I knew the bartender – and by "knew" I mean we did the messy one night stand thing. It was great, but we left it like that. Luckily, I knew I could squeeze a couple of free drinks out of him. A favor for a friend, that kind of thing. I wasn't going there again. Anyway, another patron had her eye on him, and I didn't want to get in the way.

As I wandered over to the bar, I took my hair out of the pony-tail and combed it out. I preferred to have my hair down. It felt nicer to have my hair streaming down my back. Psychologists would call it protective. I call it natural.

Nearing the bar, I could tell that it was packed tonight, and some loud music was pumping out of the amps. Ah. Live music. I paused outside for a minute. No fucking way! It was 100 Monkeys – one of my favorite bands! I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. I would not go all crazy-fan-girl on them. As long as I had my dignity, I would not make an idiot of myself in front of them. That would be completely mortifying.

Calmer now, I walked in and made my way through the huge crowd of 100 Monkeys fans to the bar. Making my way over, I shrugged out of my jacket and slung it over my handbag. As I approached the bar, Paul – the bartender who I did the dirty with – grinned at me. Thankfully he wasn't leering at my breasts. Yet. _Shit, that was going to be a problem._

"A shot of whiskey and a beer." I told him.

He smiled at me again. "It's on the house."

"Thanks."

He quickly pushed a shot of whiskey and a bottle of the local beer back across the bar. I smiled at him friendly – emphasis on the "friendly" – hoping that it looked that way, because I knew that Sara, the girl who was into Paul, was around here somewhere and I didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

After downing the shot of whiskey and a swig of my beer, I glanced over at the stage. The band had just finished Reaper, and was now playing Orson Brawl. I smiled to myself as the crowd began singing along with the band.

Too soon, the band finished the set. The guys were now packing up their instruments. I exhaled slowly again. Now they were going to mingle with the fans. _Okay – if I meet any of them, I will not scream._ I didn't think I would, but it was quite possible that if I excited myself enough, I would. Thank God my friends weren't with me, because they would. I ran my hand through my hair again, calming myself, and settled myself better on the bar stool.

Now the band emerged from backstage and got off the designated "stage" area, immediately blending into the crowd. Only one headed over to the bar – oh my God – right next to me. Shit, shit, shit! It was Jackson Rathbone. Wow, he looked so much hotter in person. Okay, okay, do not scream, do not go completely fan-girl on him – and do not fall off the damn bar stool! That would be embarrassing. As if to mock me, suddenly my balance veered off slightly, making me quickly right myself. I grabbed on to the edge of the bar. Fuck. Oh my Dog. God. Shit – his hotness is making me go nuts, even in my head.

"I'll take a whiskey, neat." his voice sounded from a couple of seats over.

me. That accent. I ran my hand through my hair again, sighing in order to calm myself. Oh – it worked. Thank God.

"Long day?"

Horrified, I looked over at him. He heard me and was talking to me. "Something like that." By some miracle, my voice was steady. Fuck... His eyes were _really_green.

He smiled at me – the famous crooked grin. Wow. For a moment, I was speechless – physically, and in my head. Okay, that rarely happens. But I needed to savour this moment. I took another swig of beer. "That was a great set. Orson Brawl is one of my favourites. I love how it gets the audience to participate."

"Thanks. Yeah, that was kind of our thought, too. You know, to get the audience to join in. We love playing music, but we love it even more when we can transfer the love to the people."

I bit back a fan-girly giggle. Thankfully, only a smile emerged.

"What?" the green-eyed god across from me asked.

I laughed fully now. "Sorry, it's just, uh, what you said sounded like it could be a line from 'I Am The Walrus'. You know, that Beatles song?"

He laughed too. "I suppose it does. So, uh, where are you from? Your accent isn't from anywhere I know of."

"New Zealand, yeah," I admitted. "So, as you can tell, we're not all hobbits with hairy feet, but you can never tell."

Jackson laughed again. Wow, I made him laugh. God, I hope that's a good thing.

"I've heard it's beautiful in New Zealand."

I grinned back at him. A safe topic – I knew a lot about my own country. And that sounds like I'm completely stupid and brainless. Thank God I didn't say it out loud. "Unless it's completely changed in the last eighteen months, you are right."

He looked at me oddly.

"I've been travelling the world – you know, seeing everything I want to see before I go and do the whole career thing. It's been a major dream of mine to see Ireland, and that was my first stop."

And there I go, rambling on about myself.

_Shit, ask him a question!_

_But what though…_

_Just say something._

_It's his turn to say something though! _I was totally exasperated at my warring subconscious. Do I say something or not?

"That must be a great feeling to be able to sort of run free like that." he commented, pulling me out of my masochistic train of thought.

Oh, thank God. He saved me from myself.

I traced the opening of the bottle in front of me. "Yeah, it is," I said simply.

_Okay, now ask him something, damn it_. "It must be the same for you, right? I mean, it wouldn't be the same as traveling the world, but it must be awesome to play for a different audience every night."

"You have a definite way with words."

Wow. Major flattery from the green-eyed Monkey god. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. Blushing. Holy shit. Biting my lip, I chuckled self-consciously and took another swig from my beer. After that, the bottle was empty.

"So, where are you headed next on your world adventure?" he asked, getting up off his stool and sitting on the one next to me. Holy Hale. Was this really happening to me, or had I been sucked into a world where men like him talked to me? I honestly had no clue. Jackson turned himself on the stool to look at me.

I then made the mistake of inhaling. Oh my God. He smelled like sweat, hotel soap, cigarettes, whiskey, and leather. Manly. And completely and totally hot, sexy and every other type of word used to describe an insanely gorgeous man. Wow. I inhaled again. Fuck me sideways. And why didn't I like smokers?

_Because smoking gives you lung cancer, you idiot! _

_Oh._

_Yeah, oh._

_It's still really hot._

_It's hot in the room – many people dancing, close bodies equals heat._

_Jackson is really hot._

I shook my head clear of my debilitating thoughts and answered Jackson's question. Still can't believe I'm actually talking to Jackson-fucking-Rathbone. "I'm actually thinking of staying in America for a little while longer. And since I've already seen New York and Forks, I may just cruise along. Go where the wind takes me, that sort of thing."

Jackson grinned at me. "Twilight fan, huh?"

A complete and total Twihard. Collected all the books and seen all the movies out so far. There was no way in hell I was telling him about my obsession with it. "Yeah, something like that."

"No L.A yet?" he asked.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Yes, I know you live in the city of angels, pun completely intended on the angel in front of me. Please don't ask me to come and visit you. I may spontaneously combust.

"I've actually already seen some of it. Dipped my feet into the ocean at Venice Beach, walked a whole four feet of the Hollywood stars – and not stars I knew of – visited China Town, and ate at a diner."

We both laughed at my pitiful trip to Los Angeles.

"That's all you've seen of L.A?" Jackson seemed to question my sanity.

I nodded in a half-assed assent. "Well, to be fair, I was only there for a few hours before I had to catch my flight back to New Zealand. By the way, I was fourteen."

This seemed to appease Jackson. "Maybe if you're still here when we're finished the tour, maybe I could show you around L.A."

In my head, there was a long pause. A small voice in the back of my head said weakly "Yep, that did it. I just died and went to Heaven."

"Y-yeah, that sounds great." I stammered, somehow finding my voice.

Holy fucking shit. I just got an invitation to see Los Angeles with an actual angel. Hallelujah, I was going to Heaven! I looked down at my bottle, remembering that it was empty. Bugger it all.

A voice suddenly interrupted my musing. "Two beers, please."

"What?" I looked up from my bottle to Jackson. He was ordering me a beer.

_What a gentleman._

_A sexy gentleman._

_No taking advantage of him now, he was on tour._

_No one said I was going to take advantage of him – he could take advantage of me._

The other voice in my head sighed.

He smiled at me. "No lady as pretty as you should have to go without alcohol."

We both laughed, though mine sounded rather breathy, and I knew I was blushing like a fucking school-girl.

_Nope, that was what killed you._

_Totally.'_Okay, for once, the two warring sides of my brain were on the same side. Jackson was starting to be a good thing for my brain.

As Paul slid two beers across to Jackson, not so subtly scowling at him – uh,oh – and Jackson passed the money over to him, thankfully ignoring the scowl that Paul was directing at him, Jackson slid one of the bottles to me and grinned his crooked grin at me. Okay, panties have just disappeared. Completely.

"Thanks." I said, opening the bottle.

He paused for a minute as he opened his own beer, and then looked up at me. "I just realized I haven't introduced myself. I'm Jackson." He extended his hand past his bottle.

"I know." I replied. Jackson blushed slightly. Aw, he actually blushed.

I reached out and grasped his hand. Fuck, this sounds so cliche, but his hand was warm and completely encompassed mine in his grasp. Tingles actually flowed up my arm. "You can call me "B"."

As we let go of each other's hands, he raised a single eyebrow at me in question to the whole "B" thing. Shit, the eyebrow thing. Girls would kill for that to be seen in person. I can't fucking believe it. So hot.

I chuckled once to myself. "When you earn points with me, you earn a letter."

"Do you do this to all the men you meet?" Jackson laughed.

Laughing too, I replied, "Only the good-looking ones," and took a swig of my beer.

_Was that cheesy? I think that was cheesy._

_It was mysterious. Let's see how he responds.' _Both little mini-me's in my head rested their chins on their hands and gazed out of my eyes at him.

Jackson chuckled once bashfully. A chorus of _"awww's"_ eminated from the two other voices in my head. God, I hope I wasn't crazy.

Suddenly another guy from the band – Ben G – came up to Jackson. "Hey, man, we've got to head out early tomorrow so we better head back to the hotel now." He grinned ruefully from beside Jackson. It was a "Sorry-I-have-to-drag-him-away" smile. I bet he had to give that smile to a lot of women. Shrugging in a "Eh, it happens" sort of way, I drank the last of my beer.

"Uh, yeah. Give me a sec, Ben." Jackson said, looking at Ben, and then back to me – rather pointedly, I might add.

Ben nodded. "Right," he turned to me. "See you." Really? I would? He then wandered off into the mass of fans behind us. Oh, God. The fans. I hope I haven't monopolized him. I also hope that they haven't been taking pictures of us to send to the paparazzi or put on Twitter. The paparazzi fucked me off enough as it was, and they weren't even following me. The way they invaded people's privacy and ruined lives.... I was thought-rambling. Back to Jackson.

_Yes, back to Jackson. _An eerie chorus sounded from my . The two voices were slowly becoming one. Someday I would need to thank Jackson.

It sucked that Jackson had to go. This had been one hell of a night. I was sorry that he had to go so soon. Ah. Thank God for the miracle of cell phones. Just as I pulled my bag up off the ground, Jackson started to speak. "Well, uh –"

"Just a sec." I said, opening my bag, and hoping that I could find my cell phone quickly in the abyss that was my handbag. By some miracle, I found it – of course, after discovering my lost lip-balm. I quickly went to the phonebook, and then held the cell-phone out to Jackson.

He seemed slightly confused.

"We'll trade numbers."

Jackson grinned and pulled out his own cell phone. "Smart thinking."

Ha. I was smart. Fuck my high school teachers.

We swapped cell phones and put our numbers in. Since I wanted him to stay interested, I just put my name as 'B'.

When we swapped back, I saw that he had put himself as 'J. Action'. Hell, yeah! It's not like anyone else would know who that was. Or that anyone would actually go through my phone. It's not like I let that many people look in it.

"It was great meeting you, Jackson." I said, smiling as I slid my phone back into my bag.

He picked my jacket up off the floor and held it out to me. Wow. His mama raised him well. Jackson even helped me into it. It was so sweet and gentlemanly that the voices in my head chorused another round "awww's". I blushed slightly as I turned back to face him.

"It was nice to meet you too. It's not very often that I don't get surrounded by screaming fans. Not that I'm complaining, but..."Jackson trailed off.

I laughed. "It's bound to get on anyone's nerves after a while."

Jackson nodded.

"I better go, and so should you. I mean, it must be hard enough driving in a van full of guys, not to mention falling asleep on the road. You never know what the others will do to you." I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"That's a good point."Jackson replied. He held out his hand again. We shook hands, and, again, I felt tingles go up my arm. Okay, it was nice, but... I hadn't felt this way in a while. And, to be honest, it scared me a bit.

"Goodnight." he said, as we broke the handshake.

"Goodnight." I echoed.

I smiled at him one last time, and walked out of the bar. When I was about three blocks from the hotel, I heard my message tone from my phone go off. Frowning, I paused on the sidewalk, and dug in my bag to retrieve my phone. The I-D said "." This was kinda weird. He had just met me.

_Maybe he wasn't the only one who felt that tingle._

No. That can't be right. If he wanted it to be something, I didn't know if I could do it. Not because of who he was, his status or anything like that. He was just a person to me.

_Of course a very good-looking person, though._

Yeah, yeah, I know. Believe me, I know. Holding my breath, I hestitantly pressed the 'View Message' button.

**Can I have another letter now? I think I've earned it. :)**

**- J. Action**

A slightly hysterical giggle bubbled out of my throat. That was so sweet and funny. I sent a quick reply back to him.

**Yes, you have earned it. 'R'**

**- B**

Seconds later, a reply to my reply came through. If we went on like this, I would never make it back to the hotel, never mind getting to sleep after this. I was so thankful that I wasn't working the morning/afternoon shift tomorrow.

**"BR?" There are a lot of variables. I would ask them, but you probably need to sleep. Again, goodnight.**

**- J. Action**

Wow. Another person who didn't do the whole text speak thing.

**Goodnight.**

**-B**

I wasn't going to get any sleep at all tonight after going to that bar.

Comments and reviews are like Jackson's handshakes - make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.


	2. Chapter 2

"I GET AROUND, GET AROUND, ROUND, ROUND, I GET AROUND, FROM TOWN TO TOWN, GET AROUND, ROU-"

Fuck! Why the hell did I have to put that song on my phone? Oh, crap. That can only mean one person is calling. She should know by now not to call me when I'm sleeping. I tried to press my head deeper into the stupid, lumpy pillow and ignore the loudness of the Beach Boys trying to infiltrate my head.

"GET AROUND, ROUND, ROUND – OH-WAAA-OOHHH..."

Oh, shut up,shut up! Fine, I thought to myself, pulling my head out from the depths of the pillow and looking around pointlessly with my eyes closed. I would answer the goddamn phone. Extracting my hand from under the pillows, I reached over to the bedside table, and fumbled around for a minute before my hand closed over the offensive object.

"Hello?" I mumbled into the phone, blarily opening my eyes. Oh, shit, who turned the fucking lights on? It was too bright this early in the goddamn morning. Wait – the light's not on. What time is it?

"Hi, Brya. What you up to?"

"Sleeping," I replied dryly, my voice slightly raspy from sleep. "Why are you calling so early?"

The voice on the other side of the phone laughed. "I know there's a time difference and everyhing, but I checked, and it should be at least twelve-thirty in New Orleans."

"What?" I looked over at the red numbers on the digital clock next to the bed. Twelve-twenty-two. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"What are you doing calling, Jaime? I thought you'd email or something like that. You never call me. And since I'm half-way across the world, you know I can't bail you out of anything, right?"

"How can you think that of me?" She joked.

God. To me, that wasn't a joke. I had spent one too many times bailing that girl out of dates, and on the odd occasion, jail. Nothing major, just drinking in public. Oh, yeah. And indecent exposure. She was a barrell of laughs, this one.

I rolled my eyes. "I always think that of you."

"Just seeing what you are up to," she replied, scoffing. "You know, I have the feeling that you've met someone. A guy, possibly..."

"Jaime! It's been two years!"

"Exactly – you should get out. Actually date for once. You know that you've been sending those updates to me, too, right? Um, let me quote – 'nothing much, just sleeping my way through the continent'."

I let out a squeak of indignation. "I was using hyperbole!"

"Hy – what? Stop using big words to confuse me. I'm just saying, you should date instead of just fucking guys."

"Okay, okay, I'll think about it." I lied. No way in hell was I going to start dating. And she made me sound like a goddamned slut. Since I'd been to New Orleans, I'd only been with Paul. Once. And I'd left the rest of it up to my trusty Rabbit. Which I thought I should stick with to stop me sounding like a slut to my friends back at home.

There was a small beep that sounded from my phone. Call waiting. It was probably Mum, she said she'd call me sometime this week. Thank God. Saved by the beep. "Jaime, that's my call waiting. Gotta go."

"I can wait."

I ground my teeth together. "It's probably Mum. And you know how she gets. I'll email you and the girls at the end of next week for my update, okay?"

"'Kay. Bye."

"Bye."

I sighed in relief as I hung up the call with her, and transferred onto the call that was waiting.

"Hello?"

"Hi, hon. It's Mum."

I smiled. It had been a while since we'd chatted. And I really needed to get her onto Skype or something like that. Kevin wouldn't tell her if her hair had been done over-the-top by Jane, and I was the only one who would answer a 'how do I look' question honestly.

"Hey. How is everything back in little ol' New Zealand?"

She laughed. "It's not that old compared to some places you've been. And it's been going good. Kevin and I are planning a trip to France, Venice and Spain. You know, last year we did Egypt and Africa, now we want to do the European thing."

"Oh, Mum, you'll love it all. Great food, great shopping, and you can even perv on some hot guys when Kevin isn't looking."

"I know I'll love the food and shopping, but I'm not sure I can pull off the 'perving' thing," Mum said. I could even hear the quotation marks in her sentence. "I don't have a good poker face like you do."

"That's true."

Mum and I laughed together.

"What about Adam? How's he doing?"

"He's good. You know, for him. Laughing away, like usual. Gran's still calling him 'God's Angel' like always. And she's doing really well, too. She has a new student at her place, Mizuki. It's like the Hiromi thing all over again. Mizuki is really sweet, and so good to her."

"Oh, that's great. Gran is never going to give up on the whole 'God's Angel' thing, is she?" I joked.

"I don't think so."

"So I'm guessing by the trip thing that everything is going well at work with Kevin? No more employment issues like he used to have?"

"None at all."

"That's good."

I turned my head to look out the slit between the curtains, when I saw the time. Twenty past one. Oh, fuck, no!

"Oh, shit. Mum, sorry, but I have to go and get ready for work. I will email you at the end of the week when things die down a bit, okay?"

"That's okay. Bye, love."

"Bye."

I pressed the 'end call' button, and closed my phone, throwing it into my open bag, and rushed into the bathroom to start my routine. Clearly, I was going to be later than usual, but hopefully, not too late.

As I rushed out of the bathroom, my hair still damp, I pulled on a suitable outfit for work, and grabbed my bag. Pulling the door locked behind me, I grabbed a hair-tie out of my bag and pulled my hair into a messy bun.I quickly ran down the stairs of the motel, and headed down the main road to the restaurant. As I went, I checked my phone. Shit, it was already ten past two. I was supposed to be there at two. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I increased my pace, and made it to the restaurant in ten minutes.

Heading into the kitchen and grabbing an apron, I looked over to see April, my supervisor, looking at me and then to her watch.

"I know, I'm sorry, I know – I'm late. I'm very, very late. White Rabbit late," I apologised, winding the strings around my waist and tying a quick knot. "But as compensation, you can keep me on for an extra half hour."

She grinned, pulling me out of my ass-kissing mode. "It's your first time being late. I'm sure I can excuse you. But don't do it again. And I think I will keep you on for the extra half hour. I like that idea."

Internally I groaned and cursed my recessive ass-kissing ways. I always did that as a kid. But I sucked it up and nodded.

Thankfully, the day went quickly, and with a few more gentlemanly men than usual. I had said to one of the other waitresses, Hannah, at the end of our shift, that it was a welcome change from the usual assholes who would pepper the questions about the menu with innuendoes and stare at our breasts as we asked the rest of the table for their orders.

"I know, right? Maybe it's a new breed of man. It would be nice to date one of those new hybrid men, wouldn't it?" She asked rhetorically.

I shrugged. "Why date when I have my Rabbit?"

This comment made Hannah laugh hysterically as she made her way out of the restaurant, waving goodbye. It was nice to see her smiling for once. She hadn't been having much luck with men, she had told me, when we went out for drinks after my first shift. Lately it had been a drunk, a hand-sy accountant, and then a guy who came out as gay after their first date. Poor girl.

Shoving the apron back in the cubby, I threw on my jacket and slung my bag over my shoulder. As I wandered slowly back to the motel, I suddenly remembered last night. I had supposedly met Jackson Rathbone. It could have been a dream, because I know I wasn't that drunk when I headed home last night.

_It was obviously a dream_, the rational, malicious side of my mind thought.

_Well, check your phone_, The eternal optimist countered. _Didn't you swap numbers?_

I hastily dug around in my bag, stopping in the middle of the footpath. A couple of men shoved past me on their way to a pub. "Sorry." I muttered, moving off to the side of the footpath, and leant against the brick building.

After a few more minutes of pulling everything but the kitchen sink out of my obviously too-big bag, I finally found my phone. I made a quiet noise of triumphant glee as I pulled it out of the black hole. Anxiously, I scrolled through my contact's list until I got to the J's. And there he was. At the top of the list. Under 'J. Action'. I fought back the hysterical squeal that threatened to errupt from my throat.

Oh, my God. I can't fucking believe it. I did actually meet him. Holy fucking shit. And the expletives kept rolling over and over in my head. But as I thought it over more, the more I wondered what would come out of it. Would I just be a booty call, or would he want a relationship? Was I even ready for that? And where the fuck did the flirtiness come from last night? I could never flirt with success. Maybe Hannah's brief flirting lessons and the few articles on flirting actually stuck with me. Huh, weird.

After studying the number a bit more, and worrying myself and my bottom lip, I shoved my phone back into my bag, and headed back to the hostel where I was staying. When I got back to the room that I shared with two other girls, I dumped my bag onto the coffee table in the middle of the room, and plopped myself down on the bed. It wasn't the most comfortable of beds, and I had seen my fair share, but it would do until I moved onto the next city.

Suddenly the door to the room opened, and my roommates Elisabeth and Lucia sauntered in, also sitting themselves gracefully on their beds.

"Hey, süße," Elisabeth said to me in her German accent, turning to lie on her stomach. It was so sweet, because, as she explained, 'süße' meant sweetheart, which she thought applied to two of the best roommates she had ever had. "how was work?"

I chuckled. "Not bad, darling, what about you?"

Lucia laughed in her slightly creepy, witch-like laugh, and cackled, "You two sound like an old married couple."

Both Elisabeth and I laughed. We just got along well, and were into the same type of humor. On occasion, we liked to screw with men, and bump and grind together on the dance floor to get their hopes up, and then burst their bubbles like a kid with bubble-wrap.

"So, we didn't see you at any of the clubs last night..." Elisabeth said, trailing off suggestively.

I ran my hand through my hair as I replied, "Wasn't really in the mood to dance, so I just went to the House of Blues instead, just to have a few drinks,"

"And to fuck off Paul, I'm assuming?" Lucia interjected.

"What? No! Sara was there, anyway," I replied, continuing with my story. "I stuck around because 100 Monkeys were playing. Awesome as always, by the way."

They both looked at me with suspicious eyes. Oh, right. I forgot, one night they had snuck up on me while I was checking out the Jackson Rathbone fan fiction online. I had a couple of favourites, and in one, I was in the middle of a hot sex scene, and Elisabeth and Lucia snuck behind me and read the page with me. They had tormented me over my crush ever since. But they couldn't empathize with me over his hotness, they were both 'Team Edward'.

After a moment of them narrowing their eyes in suspicioun at me, I gave in. "Alright, I perved, we talked, and then I left." Okay, I was definitely not going onto the part where he gave me his number. Even though they didn't consider him hot, they definitely recognised him as 'that Jasper guy from Twilight', and a celebrity and even they would squeal at me getting his number.

Elisabeth held up her hand, as if to stop traffic. "Wait – you talked? Did you get his number?"

For the first time in a long time, I felt the tell-tale signs of a blush spreading across my cheeks, giving me away to the two women sitting across from me.

At once, they both squealed loudly, at a decibel that I was sure even dogs a mile off would hear. Not a moment later, a group of three men and two women rushed into the room to see what all the ruckus was about. Oh my God. Even just in my head I used the word ruckus. Weird.

Lucia and Elisabeth quickly rushed the group out, and came back into the room looking insanely eager to hear all about what happened. And of course, at that point, my bag vibrated. And that's how powerful my phone's vibrating capabilities were.

All three of us lunged for my bag.

Unfortunately Lucia, who was a long-jump winner in high school, made it to my bag first.

She read the I.D out loud. "'J. Action'? Who the fuck is that?" That sounded hilarious in her Romanian accent.

And thank God neither of them read the 100 Monkeys website, giving them the nickanames of the band. J. Action being Jackson. "Just a friend from home." I lied quickly, carefully yanking my phone out of her grasp.

"Not with that face, you don't, fräuleinchen." Elisabeth said, noticing the way my face was flushed.

"Aw, Lis – just let me read it first, and then I'll show you." I tried bargaining with her.

She scoffed. "Scheiße, nein. You'll read it, delete it, and pretend you deleted it on 'accident'."

Damn it, she could read me like a fucking book.

She pressed the 'open message' button. Then she read out loud, "'So, what can I do to get more letters? Your mysterious woman thing is getting to me,'" She threw the phone back to me, which, by some miracle, I caught, and I gaped down at the text message. "oh my God. What did you do to seem like this 'mysterious woman?'" Elisabeth continued.

"Just didn't give him my whole name. Gave him 'BR', but that's it."

Both she and Lucia looked at me dubiously.

I scoffed in indignation. "That. Was. It." I pronounced for them.

"All right, all right." Lucia caved in.

"So, what are you going to say back? Have you even got a plan for him to gather more letters, _Brya_?" Elisabeth asked, settling back down on the end of her bed.

Rubbing my face, I replied, "I don't know. I'd had a few drinks, so I wasn't exactly thinking ahead," I paused for a moment. "maybe I should make him guess. I wish there were some sort of manual for this, because I haven't done this before."

"Done what? Flirting?" Lucia asked.

"Well," I paused for a moment. "no. Not really. With – with the last man I was emotionally involved with, we were friends for years before we started dating." I stuttered. They didn't need to know my past.

"Go with your gut." Elisabeth replied.

All right. My fingers hovered over the tiny key-pad on the cell phone for a moment, and then I began to type.

**Take a guess. I'll give you five tries, and if you don't guess right on any of them, I will demand something from you. It may be band merchandise, or something else...**

**-B**

I hesitated and turned the phone around to show the anxious women sitting across from me. "What do you think?" I asked tentatively. "Too much?"

Both women's jaws dropped as they read over the text message.

"Shit no! Not at all. Send it, send it!" Lucia said excitedly, bouncing in place.

I turned to Elisabeth.

"Well, go on. Send it." She added, glancing mischievously at me.

Again, I hesitated. Was I being too forward?

_NO!_

_Well, maybe... he might take it the wrong way._

"Send it, send it, send it!" Lucia and Elisabeth chanted.

_Oh, come on – he seems to be a good sport._

_All right, but it's your fault if he doesn't send anything back._

My finger pressed down on the 'send' button. I watched as the little envelope on the screen flew across, sending my message into cyber-space and straight into Jackson's phone.

Elisabeth and Lucia finished chanting and fell back laughing onto their respective beds. My head fell into my hands as I anxiously waiting for a returning message. After an excruciatingly long minute, my phone buzzed loudly in my hand. Oh my God. What was he going to say? What I was I going to say if he asked me what the hell I meant by 'something else'? Oh shit.

"Open it!" Elisabeth coaxed.

"Open it or we'll start chanting again." Lucia threatened.

I opened the message and read the message first to myself, planning to read it aloud to Lucia and Elisabeth once I had gotten over the shock.

**Okay, guess number one, and this would really suck if you say yes, but I need to know. Is your name Bryan? Were you once a man? I'm hoping to hell that you'll say no and just laugh at me, but I need to know.**

**J. Action**

I laughed out loud. Thank God he didn't mention the demand, because I may have died of embarrassment if he had.

"What are you laughing at? Tell us!" Lucia demanded.

I relayed the message back to them, and it practically sent them into hysterics. And watching them fall over each other to get to me just sent me into paroxysms of laughter as well. When they both saw the message on the phone and that it was actually real, they suggested that I send back a message confirming that I was a man. I generally considered it for a minute, but then I liked the idea of just waiting for a couple of minutes without sending a message back to see what else he would say. I lay down on the floor with the phone on my stomach, waiting to see if he would wait for an answer or send another message. But about five minutes later, my phone vibrated again, tickling my stomach. I giggled and opened the message.

**You're scaring me. Please send me an answer. I only sent that text because Ben G dared me to, but now you have me worried.**

**J. Action**

Quickly, I typed him a reply, with Lucia and Elisabeth sitting on either side of my head to get a better view of the phone.

**Don't worry – I'm not a man, and my name isn't Bryan. One question down, four to go.**

**B**

"Good?" I asked my audience. When I got the thumbs up from both of them, I sent the message to Jackson.

When my phone buzzed next, I eagerly opened the message, keen to see what he would guess next. I hoped he didn't guess it, so I could be creative as to what I could 'demand' from him, and how far I could get.

**Just breathed a huge sigh of relief. I'm extremely thankful that you're not a man. Next guess – I'll try and guess a letter this time. 'I'?**

**J. Action**

I didn't see that one coming. Glancing at Lucia and Elisabeth, they nodded their agreement to keep going. "We have to head to bed now, because we've got an early flight to catch to Rome tomorrow, but trust your instincts with him," Elisabeth offered. "I know we won't see you in the morning, but we'll try and keep in touch."

"I'll add you to my list of people to send my weekly updates to. I even might send you non-forwarding emails about my progress about Jackson. Don't expect too much, all right." I told them.

Both she and Lucia smiled at me and hugged me and then got into their beds. I got into my own bed and replied to Jackson's message.

**Nope. Way off the mark. Next!**

**B**

Mere minutes later Jackson came up with his next question.

**This is kind of weird, since this is my sister's name, but Brea?**

**J. Action**

Yeah, that would be weird.

**I'm afraid you struck out again, my friend. Two more questions left...**

**B**

I grinned to myself after I sent the message. Moments later, my phone vibrated.

**This isn't going very well. Brandi?**

**J. Action**

I rolled my eyes. Hell to the no.

**Dude. That's a porn star name. How many girls have you actually met with that name? My guess would be not that many.**

**B**

I giggled slightly as I pressed the 'send' button. As I waited for the reply, I pulled off my jeans and bra, and got more comfortable in the bed. It turns out that it's not quite possible in that particular lumpy bed. Shifting my body into another contorted, yet slightly more comfortable position, the phone vibrated.

Grabbing the phone from where it had fallen off the bed from me shifting around so much, I opened the message.

**Trust me, you would be surprised at how many girls have told me that was their name. Oh, crap I'm on my last guess, aren't I?**

**J. Action**

I smiled as I replied to the message.

**Yes, you are. Last guess?**

**B**

When the message was sent, I pulled my hair out of the bun it was in, and ran my fingers through my hair until it was at least manageable. As I yawned, the phone buzzed next to my head.

**Okay, last guess. Brayden?**

**J. Action**

Strike three.

**Where I come from, that's a guy's name. Zero out of five. Let me see, what should I demand from you... I'll sleep on it and try and get back to you tomorrow. 'Night.**

**B**

Not long after I had sent the message, and I was settling down to go to sleep, my phone vibrated for what I hoped was the last time, because I was getting tired. I liked talking to Jackson, but I was getting really tired after a long day at work.

Opening the message, I yawned again.

**Let's see what you come up with. Maybe I could come up with something, too. And sweet dreams. **

**J. Action**

That last message sent thrills throughout my body. The 'maybe I could come up with something, too' part? Did he even know that my perverted mind totally twisted that into something suggestive? But the 'sweet dreams' kind of scared me. I hadn't heard that in a while, especially from a man.

The next day I woke in a cold sweat with tears streaming down my face. I had the dream. Dead eyes. His cold, dead eyes. Oh, shit. I slumped back in the pillow and squeezed my eyes shut against the light of the world.


End file.
